Known Subjects
by Leaper
Summary: In a better world, in a fairer world, these are some of the stories that might have been told. A selection of what might have been for some unsubs.


**Pride**

Ocean Drive was filled with rainbows. There was leather, glitter, cross-dressing, and bare skin — lots of bare skin — but most of all, there were rainbows. Rainbows on flags, hats, ribbons, buttons, stickers, shorts, tights... Color draped almost every shouting and wolf-whistling figure, almost blindingly bright under the hot Miami sun.

David Fitzgerald was a notable spot of drab, with his tan shirt and grey slacks. But he was also dour: his arms crossed, jaw set, staring out at the bare chested humanity of both genders as they marched by with signs like "Love Is Love" and "Equality Now!"

Sarah Fitzgerald jogged up to his side — she fit in more, with her "Proud PFLAG Sister" t-shirt and equal sign logo face-painted on her left cheek. "Here, Dad!" she chirped, handing her father a PFLAG button. "Come on, it's a parade!"

All the older man did was snort in reply and shove the button into his pocket.

Sarah rolled her eyes, grabbing onto her father's arm. "Oh, come on, cheer up. They're gonna be coming by any minute!"

"Coming to this... this parade is one thing," David rumbled. "But did he have to actually _be_ in it?"

"Yes, he did. It's not like he's doing it to personally humiliate you, you know. He's not waving a sign with his name and address on it. He's just marching." Sarah brightened as the sign for American Airlines employees bobbed into view. "There he is!" She began jumping up and down, waving her arms. "Steve!" she screeched. "Steve! Nate! Over here!"

Two faces turned at the screams — a minor miracle, given the thumping bass and loud applause all around them. Steven Fitzgerald wrapped his arm around that of Nathan Brock's and pulled him out of the march towards the sides. "Sarah! God, I'm so glad you made it!" He hugged his sister tight over the barricade. "Sir." He nodded towards his father. David Fitzgerald nodded begrudgingly back.

"Hey, Sarah!" Nathan Brock was redheaded and white-toothed, his lean, wiry swimmer's build on full display thanks to wearing a pair of tight Lycra shorts and running shoes, and nothing else. It was sharp contrast with Steven's blue American t-shirt and denim shorts; fortunately, Nathan thought his boyfriend's body consciousness was "cute". "Looking good!"

"You too! No, better than good — you are _smoking_ hot!" She gave him a hug, their sunglasses clinking against each other.

"Thanks, but still not my type! Sorry!" Laughing, Nathan turned towards the elder man, his dazzling smile slipping just slightly. "Hello, Mr. Fitzgerald," he said politely.

"Are you _still_ with him?" David Fitzgerald snapped at his son, completely ignoring the greeting.

"Yes, Dad, I am," Steven said wearily. "It's been two months now, and I'm still not breaking up with him."

"You know what they say about how long these... relationships last."

"Dad!" Sarah lightly slapped her father's shoulder, earning her a nasty look in return. "Oh! You guys had better catch up with your group. We'll meet you after the parade's over for dinner. And we'll _both_ be on our best behavior." She cast a glare at David Fitzgerald that rivaled the ones the old man gave out.

"Sounds good." Steven pecked his sister on the cheek and jogged back towards the American Airlines group, dragging Nathan by the hand; he didn't even have to look behind him to see his sister's smile and his father's sour grimace.

"Did you see that, Dad?" Sarah remarked quietly, the words almost, but not quite, lost over the tumult around them.

David had indeed seen "that": the adoring looks his son cast that... that man. The lightness of his step, the strength of his shoulders. He was happy, blindingly happy, the way David Fitzgerald had seen the mirror a time or two when his wife was alive... "Is that really necessary?" he groused, waving his hand at a pair of topless young women marching by with X's of tape over their nipples. Sarah rolled her eyes.

Meanwhile, back in the parade, Nathan nudged Steven's shoulder. "Your dad still doesn't like me," he said.

"No. Not sure he ever will. But at least he didn't put a choke hold on you. I could tell he wanted to."

Nathan laughed, a deep, ringing sound that sent Steven's heart racing. "Seriously, though, if I'm gonna cause trouble with you and your dad..."

"It's not your fault," Steven said. "He's had trouble with me being gay for years. It used to be bad... Real bad. But it's a lot better now, and..." He shook his head in a kind of wonder. "He's trying. In his own way, he's actually trying. Never thought I'd see the day."

"Well, then maybe there's hope."

"Maybe." A parade watcher caught his attention: tanned, black buzz cut hair, arms and chest packed with muscle that barely fit under his tank top. He was standing closely — much too closely — to a similarly built blond who looked like he'd just stepped out of the pages of an Abercrombie and Fitch catalog. Steven licked a bead of sweat from his lip.

Nathan shoved Steven on the shoulder. "You filthy bitch!" he cried in faux outrage. "In front of your boyfriend!"

"'You filthy bitch! In front of your boyfriend!'" Steven repeated in a gently mocking imitation of Nathan's Boston accent. "Don't tell me you didn't notice them too!"

"No! Okay, yes. They were really hot, so I'll forgive you this time."

"Oh, you have nothing to be jealous about."

"No?" Nathan asked, eyes twinkling. "You didn't even think, for one second, that you wanted to be that guy — that built, incredibly sexy guy with the equally built and incredibly sexy boyfriend — and not Steven Fitzgerald? Not even for a second?"

Steven smiled. "Steven Fitzgerald has you," he said, wrapping his arm around Nathan's shoulder and giving him a kiss. "So no — there's no one else in the world I'd rather be right now than me."

**AN: Might continue, if there's interest. Already planning other similar unsubs: Jonny McHale, Samantha Malcolm, and, of course, Tobias Hankel. Let me know if y'all are interested in more, or if there are any others you think I should cover...**


End file.
